


Orestes Fasting

by ElvenSorceress



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Canon Era, Character Study, Gen, M/M, Slash, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-22
Updated: 2013-04-22
Packaged: 2017-12-09 05:27:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/770522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElvenSorceress/pseuds/ElvenSorceress
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enjolras muses on love and self-denial.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Orestes Fasting

Despite what most of his friends think, Enjolras is not oblivious to such a thing as love. He’s not made of stone. The capacity to wield that deep, abiding affection has always been inside him.

He loves his friends of course. They are bonded to him, his heart, his life more than anyone who claims to be a blood relation. Even if they are unaware he cares for them so. Though he doubts they would argue that he doesn’t love them like brothers.

They are far more inclined to bask in confusion and incredulity because he has no interest in any woman, has never shown desire for physical pleasures nor for romance, and seems content to let this remain as status quo.

If only it were that simple.

Politics, history, government, oppression, justice - these things all make sense. They’re easy to define, easy to debate. He knows where the fallacies are. He knows which pieces are corrupt. He understands what must be done in order to effect change. Convincing others to see his point of view isn’t even that difficult. He can talk long and intelligently enough to trump most anyone.

Romantic love does not make sense. Why should one person feel different than anyone else? Why must it eclipse all reason? Why should he care so much for someone who insists on being a pale shadow of who they could be? Why should love hurt so much more than any flesh wound? It has too much power and too few ways to shield oneself. It’s not something delicate and pure and beautiful as Jehan likes to describe. It’s monstrous and confusing and illogical and impractical. It’s much easier and far less painful to devote oneself to a righteous cause.

Not many things actually frighten him, but the immensity of love does. It could render him completely helpless. Completely senseless. There’s already too much passion, too much emotion that boils inside him. He has an excess of anger and empathy and rage and guilt. He desires and needs and longs for so much. What he dreams of, the things he prays for are simply too enormous. There’s nothing small or superficial. His heart is too full and too empty. It needs to stay that way.

Were he to love someone, he can’t imagine it being half-hearted. It would be just as intense and overwhelming as his love for France. He wouldn’t be able to stop. He wouldn’t be able to keep it at bay. What if it surpassed his love for Patria? What if he lost the courage or resolve to win freedom for all people because of his selfish, traitorous heart? What if the one he loves were struck down during their battle and it broke Enjolras so completely that he couldn’t continue fighting?

He isn’t cold like his friends think. He isn’t fine marble. He has far too much swelling under the surface, and it must always be contained. Some people, certain people must be kept at a distance. He isn’t blind any more than he is oblivious or ignorant. They might think he doesn’t notice or that he’s unaware. He’s no more unaware than he is immune.

He knows the feel of that gaze. He knows whenever it’s on him. He knows the way sadness and longing looks in those eyes. He feels the absence when it’s not there. He misses the contrary, infuriating, incongruous presence even when there’s no reason that he should.

The adoration, however, the seemingly unconditional faith and affection for the one thing that should never receive such unrestrained belief is something he could do without. Enjolras is human and fallible. While he’s certainly capable and devotes everything he has to making sure he doesn’t fail, there’s still no reason anyone should believe in him over everything else. No matter what he does or how he prepares, he could still lose. They all would lose.

It still happens that sometimes he can’t help thinking about what it might be like. What if he let himself be in love? What if he saw only one person? Only felt the touch of their hand or the sweetness of their gaze.

What if he didn’t work to ignore the man who watched him? What if he didn’t look away from those eyes or that smile? What if he let himself be held? Or kissed? What would it feel like to kiss him? Would he taste of brandy or wine? Would the man be shocked? Would he still want Enjolras once it was no longer a mystery or an unattainable goal?

Perhaps Enjolras fears rejection more than he would’ve imagined. What if he lost that reverent, contradictory, brilliant man who was so much of what Enjolras could never be and so much of what he needed? What if he were gone?

The idea of functioning after that seems only a blur of emptiness and rage and loss. If they thought him severe now, he can only imagine how truly terrible and extreme he’d be without that man.

Why must it hurt so? Why must it overshadow and ruin everything else?

Maybe if love were gentle and temperate, it would be something Enjolras could have.

But it isn’t, so Enjolras looks away and ignores how Grantaire’s sorrowful eyes follow him.


End file.
